Susan: A Happy 4th of July
By Susan Shanklin
It was July 4th, and I was in a funk. Why? It’s Independence Day! Fireworks, parades, and more, but I just wasn’t too happy and Tom knew that.
We discussed going to the fireworks in town.
“What time do they start, and where do we go?” I say. Tom responds, “At 10 p.m. on the bridge.”
I kind of roll my eyes. 10 p.m. is this girl’s bedtime, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to stand on a bridge with hundreds of other people. Plus to get to that bridge, you would have to park hundreds of miles away and walk.
This plan wasn’t working for me, and I continue to be in my funk.
“Let’s go to a parade!” Tom says. I like parades! Marching bands, royalties, marching flag bearers … and CANDY!
“Ok,” I say, “Where?”
Tom checks online and seeks out a local parade. Whoops, parades during church time. That’s not going to work. Why schedule a parade when you should be in church? Not having it!
“Oh, Elysian is having theirs at 1:30 pm.” Tom reads. Elysian is 19 miles. Population 600. We live in the country, folks!
I roll my eyes again. Mrs. Funk is not convinced, but Mr. Bright Eyes is. “Well, we should get going if we want to get a good place to sit,” I say.
People around here lay out blankets and set up chairs days before a parade to mark their spots. Really.
I put on my long sundress, my Magnolia hat that my son-in-law “thrifted” for me, sunglasses, and good running shoes. The lawn chairs are already in the trunk of Tom’s car for any grandchildren sporting events or any other outside activities we might want to do.
We drive our 28 minutes to Elysian, and yep, it’s chock-full of cars and people. Where do you park? Why right in the middle of town, of course.
We pull into the parking lot, and Tom drives around looking for a space. “Why so far away?” me says. “Keep driving.”
“There, there under that tree where that lady is standing,” I yell. Tom slowly pulls in not wanting to run the lady over. Why does she keep standing there, I’m thinking. OH, she is saving it for someone! The standing statue lady looking in the car sees the two gray heads and waves us in. Ha! She says, “Yes, I WAS saving it for my friend, but you can have it. “YES, LORD!”
Now again, I remind you, people here stake out their claim on parade routes early so that there wasn’t a lick of space on the street, and Tom says, “This is good here under the tree.” Like down a knoll with a bunch of grey heads lined up like a nursing home parade. I want to be up there close to the action! I want to see the people on floats and marching bands. I WANT CANDY!
We sink into our folding chairs, and Mrs. Funk doesn’t want to sit with the old people! I want to be UP there. Bingo! I see a slight shift in the chairs UP THERE.
“GO, Tom.” I elbow him. He walks up and kindly asks if we can put our chairs here. He asks the mother of two young girls, who aren’t too happy to move a foot for two gray heads, but their mom kind of makes them.
YES! I am improving my attitude.
Finally, the parade starts. I’m so excited. First, marching veterans struggling to hold their flags in the breeze with piped patriotic music.
America, America, I love you. Mrs. Funk no more! We take off our hats and clap, clap. I’m proud.
Ok, next. Where’s the candy?
I have a young couple to my left on a blanket, and to my right, I have two agile young girls.
Methinks the couple is no problem, but those kids on the other side might be a problem. They have small empty plastic bags in their hands.
No sitting down for me. I’m standing ready to run out there and get my Tootsie Rolls! Why I’ll knock over a kid to get my Tootsie Roll! Don’t mess with me and my Tootsie Roll!
The royal princesses don’t throw candy, just the robotic hand wave. On to the next. Tractors and farm businesses. Now, they throw candy!
I’m out for the dash. I draw an imaginary line in my head. Candy in this lane is mine, and the other lane is the girls.
TOOTSIE ROLLS. Susan’s out of the gate slicker than snot. I am so pleased.
The girls are stunned. Man, that old lady is in it to win it.
That’s life, folks. Be in it to win it. So the parade rolls on, and I get my tootsie fill and continue to run and grab candy, but help fill the little girls’ sacks, too.
“Oh, thank you.” they keep saying.
I’m thinking, you gave up your shade for me, and look what you get.
Mrs. Funk is no more, and I’m on a sugar high, and life is good.
God bless America!